Baron Rostov pondered. Gaspar believed that this Kristijan Stokavski was plotting with the Lich. As Captain of the Guard and a Stokavski, he must know this manor and these people inside out.
But what if he was blinded by his jealousy? Clearly the Stokavski mentality was still dead-set against outside help, or they would not have let this Porter business degenerate as far as it had. But nevertheless Gaspar had hired an outside assassin. Suppose that like him the Lich’s ally had brought in outside help? Or his allies. One or more of the younger people might be plotting with him, or ‘old family’ might have signed on as part of a power play, or both. In other words, nearly any Stokavski in the manor, or away from it. And how would he recognize one of them?
Feeling as hopeless as Gaspar, he tried a different tack. If he could not find the plotters … perhaps there was a magical device involved, easy to see from the Ethereal Plane. That is, if one moved to the Ethereal from near the device on the Prime Material.
The Baron now had a plan, possible though perhaps not likely of success: To find a device, then its owner. He left the peasant’s body and drifted upward. The wizard had hardly begun his rise before he sensed barriers and guardians above. Of course the Stokavskis would have well-developed defenses at any time, more so now that Wolf’s Lair was under siege by a being of great magical power and his forces. That was unfortunate.
“But wait!” he said to himself. “I’m not looking for a magical device. Those, the Stokavskis would cope with routinely. Any device will be material, the product not of sorcery but of natural science!”
Hastily returning to the peasant’s body, the Baron called to Gaspar. “You must let me inside you.”
“If it will help free me, why not? I have nothing to lose, now.”
“And then you must do more! You must send me to your Celesta!”
Gaspar half snorted, half laughed. “I may be without hope, but not without honor or love. No, lecherous Baron.”
“Yes!” said Rostov. “Surely Celesta has the run of the manor, and through her can I quickly find your plotter. You must think of her … think of her deeply and longingly. I will move through you to her, and beg her help to free you.”
Gaspar stared.
“Hurry, man!” the Baron urged. “It is the only way! Will it help if, while with her, I persuade her to slap Kristijan for you?”
A spark appeared in Gaspar’s eye; he knew how to do what was asked of him. “Slap him silly for me, and spit on him, Celesta! I love you so much that I’m willing to send another man to you. Celesta! Celesta! My darling Celesta!” As the erstwhile Captain howled, he tugged so hard on his chains that a little blood trickled down his wrists. Taking the opening his emotion offered, the Baron took a deep breath and rushed into him as he cried, “I am bound to you, Celesta, by chains as real as these and stronger! Celesta! Celesta! Let Baron Rostov find you before my jailer silences me.”
At the center of the maelstrom that Gaspar’s body and mind formed at that instant, the wizard saw a pure, white, peaceful spot shining, and dove for it. It was indeed Gaspar’s image of Celesta, from which a tenuous thread led up into the manor. Recklessly, Rostov merged with and followed that thread. If the image was not strong enough, if Gaspar’s love was not reciprocated at Celesta’s end, if the thread broke for any other reason, he would end up floating in some nether part of the Ethereal Plane and suffocating even while disembodied.
But at that very moment Celesta was asleep and dreaming of Gaspar, exhausted from worrying about him and praying for his freedom. The Baron entered her body easily.
She was a strong-willed woman, and the Stokavskis did not leave their assets unprotected. Had he approached her on his own, he would have been ensnared as well as rebuffed. But having gained access through the thread of her love for Gaspar, it took only moments to acquire complete control of her dreaming body. Then he started to wake her gently. As she became aware of him, he soothed her reluctance with the very words that Gaspar had shouted.
“Miss Stokavski, we must help Gaspar,” he then thought to her. “We must find whoever was really behind the plot to surrender the manor to the forces besieging it.”
“Of course … but who are you? I have never dreamed of you before!”
“I am a friend, of yours and of Gaspar’s.” Fortunately, the thought carried more conviction than a spoken sentence would have. “You must rouse and search Wolf’s Lair. We seek a machine of the plotters.”
“A machine?”
“I will know it when we see it,” thought the Baron. “Please, we must hurry.”
If need be, Rostov could control her every motion, but doing so would be terrifying for Celesta, clumsy for him, and utterly unnecessary at this point. He allowed her to rise, stretch, put on a dressing robe over her nightgown, and find slippers to protect her feet against the chilly floor.
“Where should I start?” she thought.
“We seek something strange and mechanical. Where would such a device be hidden in this manor?”
“I have little to do with mechanical things. Perhaps the stables? The tool sheds? But those are outside the manor, and I dare not go out until the siege is lifted.”
“It would not be there; this is not some servant’s tool! Where could one, maybe two, family members go, with perhaps an artisan to assist them in making the tool, or a servant to help them use it?”
“Kristijan maintains a laboratory in the North Tower.”
“How convenient,” thought the Baron, suppressing the memory of Gaspar’s request. “We will go there at once.”
“Must we? These days I hate dealing with my brother, even in broad daylight in a crowd!” Ever since Rostov was a boy, all through the valley there had been rumors of the strange ways of the Kalnichov families, and the Stokavskis were the pinnacle of those. Still, he had never really believed that even among them a brother would so much as consider incest with his sister. Yet here it was, clear in Celesta’s mind, as distasteful but not horrifying.
“If we are to save Gaspar, yes, I think we must go there,” he answered calmly.
Celesta strode swiftly and quietly to the tower. The guards she passed were numerous, vigilant, and reasonably sensitive to magic; had the Baron attempted to wander the manor in either a Prime Material or a naked Ethereal form, he would have been spotted quickly and perhaps captured. If the rest of the Stokavskis’ defenses were as vigorous, the Lich’s Imps would not last long against them.